


All That Is Pure

by Lokesenna



Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:49:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokesenna/pseuds/Lokesenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki returns from a trip to Asgard to a sick Tom and all he wants to do is make his favourite mortal feel better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That Is Pure

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've been able to write that I'm satisfied with since writer's block hit.  
> Hopefully I can return to my other works soon.

   Loki opens the door to the apartment and nearly weeps with relief. It had been a difficult trip; his visits to Asgard never left him with a smile on his face, and this time had been no different. He just wants to lie down, bury his head in those familiar pillows and sleep until it doesn’t hurt, until the insults and stabs don’t ring in his ears anymore. Which just might be forever, given how weary and worn he feels.

   The last thing he expects is to find Tom Hiddleston slouched on the leather couch in the living area, an ice-pack on his head, his face pale and drawn. The drapes have been closed against the light.

 _Migraine._ Loki recognizes the signs. Sometimes it happens like that after Thomas had a particular hard week’s worth of work, that drew from his physical _and_ mental reserves. He wonders if it would be any better if they were to give him some breaks between scenes, not that Tom would let them. He just knows that Thomas is in pain.

   "Thomas," he whispers, lightly touching Tom's shoulder, careful not to alarm him. "I have returned. Can you open your eyes long enough to let me know you are alive?"

   Thomas groans. "I'm alive… I think. _Barely_."

   "Your mind ache medicines are in the medicine chest," Loki brushes his lips across Tom's temple.

   "Took them… I just need to sleep, now. Nh… I’m glad you’re back."

   "Come to bed."

   Tom cracks an eye open, teal and bloodshot yet still hauntingly beautiful to Loki, even as the mortal frowns up at him. "Lo...? You look as crappy as I feel," Tom whispers. He lifts a hand to Loki's cheek. "Rough trip?"

   "The All-Father was as merciful as ever." Loki's voice cracks and he kisses Tom's temple.

   "I'm sorry, darling... hmm... bed sounds good," Tom murmurs, already half to sleep.

   Loki levers him up off the couch, and wraps his arm around Tom's waist, the other under his knees, before pulling him up and into his arms. He moves the actor carefully to the bedroom and lowers Tom to the mattress. The trickster god pulls the blinds before he, too, falls into bed with Tom's body tucked up against his, Loki finally lets sleep claim him.

*

   When he wakes again, the room is in shadows and Thomas is still sleeping, easily now, with the faint lines of pain eased. One arm is flung over his head, pulling up the hem of his white v-neck, exposing a band of fair skin over the jut of his hip bone.

   Loki feels a stirring of arousal, but he doesn't want to wake Tom yet. He gets out of bed as quietly as he can, gathers up clean garments and goes into the bathroom for a shower. As the steam gathers and the water beats down, he let it ease his muscles and wash away the memories and frustration that had clung to him like heavy chains.

   He is still standing under the streaming water when the door slides open. Thomas stands in front of Loki. His hands grip Loki's shoulders for balance. His body is narrow, sleek. His skin, beneath Loki's palm, was warm, slick. Loki pumps soap onto a wash cloth and runs it across Tom's chest, watching the suds slide down his torso, to his navel, to the darker trail of hair that leads down to his groin. His cock is erect, and Loki's own arousal spikes rapidly when Tom closes his soapy fist around the shaft.

   "Feeling better?"

   Thomas grins. "Oh, yeah. Much." He can't hide the shadows under his eyes that only the God of Lies recognizes.

   Loki takes his face between his hands. "Liar." He kisses Thomas's wet eyelids, the ridge of his cheekbone, his jaw, then nibbles his way to his mouth. "Mine… sweet liar."

   Tom parts his lips to Loki's tongue. The kiss is leisurely, deep, melting. "Norns, you taste good," Loki breathes.

   Tom makes a happy sound in his mouth and kisses his way across Loki's clavicle, down his chest and kneels before the raven haired god. The water flows down his shoulders; his skin is hot and smooth under Loki's palms. He watches, fascinated as Thomas laps at the water beading on his cock, at the pre-cum welling at the tip. His beautiful mouth surrounds Loki's flesh, and he wants to tell Thomas they should take it to the bed, but he can't move, can't think. He stops fighting and lets Tom suck him off, tongue caressing his length and lips stimulating him until he cries out his release, nearly sinking to the tiles when he is finished ejaculating. Now, he is clinging to Tom, to the mortal kneeling so willingly before him.

   Tom rises and kisses Loki, tasting like the ocean; water and salt, the faint musk of sex. Loki fumbles with the shower taps and finally magicks them off, impatient. "Do not move."

   He opens the door wide enough to grab for a bath sheet and wraps it around Thomas and around himself. Thomas' cock is hard, and he rocks against Loki's thigh, looking for friction. Loki catches his shoulders. "Bed," he orders. "Now."

   "Bossy," Tom gasps, but he lets Loki shuffle them out of the shower and, kissing, lets him muscle them over to the bed. Loki gives Tom's body a few quick swipes with the towel, deliberately brushing it against his erection. He reaches into his nightstand and get out the man’s lube. He could easily magick him slick and himself ready… but somehow doing this the Midgardian way is so very _Thomas,_ that he now finds himself craving the process. Tom is sprawled on the bed, naked and utterly beautiful. Thomas' eyes widen. "Sweetheart, you want...?" A bit startled because it isn't often that Loki asks for that, which Tom doesn't mind as long as the satisfaction is mutual, but this… nnh. _Yes please_.

   "I will have you _fuck_ me," Loki purrs. He smears lube in his palm, warms it for a moment and then coats Tom from base to tip, his thumb teasingly brushing over the slit in a way that makes the man tremble. He could send him off with just a bit more stimulation… but not tonight. "Give me your hand."

   Tom does. He slicks up his fingers and slides them down Loki's rear, long fingers finding him, pressing in. Loki moans and rolls over, shifting just so that Tom knows to roll on top of him, which he does. The trickster’s legs fall open, exposing himself completely, and perhaps it is a craving for acceptance after having been on Asgard, perhaps he just wants to freely give to one that accepts every aspect of him, never judging, always giving in return. Tom's hands are on him, his fingers go deeper, scissoring and stretching. He brushes across Loki's prostate and Loki just about dies, arching up from the bed as Tom's fingers tease him. He is getting hard again, wanting to be fucked so damn bad the Norns would blush if they saw. "Thomas…," he gasps.

   Tom withdraws his fingers and slowly slides inside Loki's body, pushing past that tight ring of muscle until the trickster’s heat wraps around him. For a moment he pauses, braced on his arms, looking down at him, eyes wide and perhaps, for the moment, the migraine pushed to the back, forgotten, the pain lessened by something so rare he could not let that ruin it. Thomas had never seen Loki so open, so vulnerable. The god gives the slightest nod, and Thomas kisses him.

   Loki gasps wantonly at that, but then Tom’s expression grows fierce with need and he rocks into Loki, hard and driving, again and again with an urgency they seem to share until he arches up, hips meeting Tom's as he shoves his length deeper, now almost desperate. Loki's feels his muscles clench around his lover and the mortal cries out, his neck hard and corded as he spills hot seed into the god’s body.

   Loki's second orgasm is deep and quiet, shuddering inside him, burning through his thigh muscles to his core. _This,_ he thinks, _This is life._

    Tom falls against Loki, boneless and heavy, panting into the crook of his neck with curls damp against his forehead and the trickster wraps a leg over Tom, pulls the sheet over their bodies twines soothing magic into his man. He may not be good at healing magic, but he could do this much, fingers caressing his back until they both drift back to sleep, perfectly sated, perfectly _together_.


End file.
